Where Do We Go From here?
by RabidZukoFangirl
Summary: Rated T for major angst. May add chapters, not sure yet. Don't read if your uncomfortable with child birth. Nothing too explicit, but yeah. Sequel to "A Crazy Christmas Eve"
1. Where Do We Go From Here?

**Terri Farley owns "The Phantom Stallion" but I'm too much of a failure to think up a witty way to say that . . . **

**~&~**

Jake held Sam's hand as tight as he could. Sam's forehead was drenched in sweat, the doctors and nurses were rushing around the room. Jake's stomach flipped, his hands became sweaty. He felt as if the white walls were caving in on him, the sterile, too clean smell of the hospital was making him nauseas.

A few seconds later Sam screamed in agony, the ripping pain in her abdomen was beginning to be too much to bear. The contraction only lasted seconds, but to Sam it seemed to last years.

Finally, after hours in the birthing room a small-though loud-cry was heard.

It was a girl, Jake's heart swelled with a new feeling. A feeling he'd never felt before. He was a father. He had another little soul depending on him for food, shelter and clothing.

Sam clenched onto Jake's hand for dear life. For some reason, the pain hadn't stopped.

"Jake . . . Why hasn't the pain gone away yet?" A tear trickled down her cheek. Jake reached down and wiped it away.

"It'll be fine Brat."

"Doctor she hasn't stopped bleeding." The young cowboy heard one of the nurses, although she tried to keep it quite.

Jake's heart felt like it had stopped, what did that mean? Clearly something was wrong. After a few seconds the nurses shooed him out to the waiting room. Jake sank into one of the waiting room chairs, burying his head into his hands and letting out a shuddering breath.

"God, if Your really there, please, please make everything OK. Please let Sam make it out of here. Please God." He whispered under his breath.

~&~

After about 45 minutes the doctor came out into the waiting room. The front of his doctor's coat was still covered in blood. The middle aged doctor walked slowly towards the young father, and stopped a few feet in front of him.

"I'm sorry sir, but . . . She lost too much blood. She's gone." Bowing his head in remorse and apology he walked away.

Jake felt as if his heart was being ripped from his chest. Sam was everything to him. His life. His other half. His better half. She was what he lived for. For her to be gone . . . Was too much for him to bear. The young, now widowed man's shoulder's shook. His head still in his hands.

"No. No. NO. This . . . This can't be happening to me. What did I do to deserve this? Tell me! Why . . .?" His voice was choked, filled with so much emotion . . .

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, a young nurse stood before him.

"Excuse me sir, but . . . Would you like to see the baby?" Jake just nodded his head, and followed her through the halls.

The nurse lead him to a medium sized room, in the center of the room was a crib, inside of the crib lay a little baby sound asleep.

Jake slowly picked up the babe, and cradled her in his arms. A tear from his mustang eyes fell on her nose and she woke. She opened up her milky blue eyes and let out a soft mewing noise.

The new father smiled sadly.

"My little Sam Louise. " He whispered to her softly.

The little girl had a small tuft of auburn hair atop her head. Jake just knew she'd look just like Sam when she grew up.

After a few minutes of holding her, the nurse took her to feed. Jake sighed. He only had one thought on his mind. Where do we go from here?

**~&~**

**Oh look, yet another morbid peace. First time I killed off Sam though. _ Gosh. I almost had tears come to my eyes when I was writing that. :P **

**R&R please. **


	2. Shock

**Many thanks to Winteraon for betaing! Sorry for killing off Sam guys. Well. Not really, but yeah. I love Sam, and it was kind of sad to make her die, but it ties into the story. Enjoy the second chapter. Or cry over it. Or whatever you guys do. :P**

**~&~**

Grace Forester was on the way to the hospital, she couldn't believe it was finally time! Can you imagine? Her, Grace Forester, a great grandmother! She was ecstatic. In the passenger seat she had water from home, a change of clothes for Sam, as well as a few baby outfits.

After finally finding a parking space, Grace gathered her things and walked into the hospital. She knew something was wrong the moment she saw Jake. His head was in his hands; his broad, strong shoulders were shaking with emotion.

"Jake . . .?" His name escaped her lips breathlessly.

"Sam . . . She's gone." The young father didn't even look up.

Grace gasped and covered her mouth. She sank into the seat next to Jake as the tears started flowing down her face.

~&~

Despite the hectic early morning traffic, Brynna and Wyatt Forester finally made it to the hospital. Wyatt came to a sudden stop when he saw his mother sobbing hysterically and a distraught Jake next to her, his head buried in his darkly tanned hands. The aged cowboy was rooted to the floor until Brynna jolted him out of his silent shock.

As his son-in-law told him what had happened he fell to his knees in the middle of the waiting room, his chest and throat tightening in agony. Brynna placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, the tears racing each other down her cheeks, but it did nothing to comfort the distraught father.

~&~

The day of the funeral dawned a mockingly bright morning. Birds singing, horses romping, cattle grazing, the perfect day for a picnic, Sam's favorite kind of day. The sun was shining brightly through a few white puffy clouds, creating sun beams. Sam had always loved looking at sun beams; she said it was God looking down on the earth and smiling upon His perfect day.

All of the Ely, Kenworthy, and Forester families were there for the funeral; even little Sam Louise made her appearance. The funeral service was beautiful, touching . . . Filled with so much emotion . . . Only people without a heart could have had dry eyes by the end of it. Jen had spoken of all the good memories she shared with Sam as they grew up together. Even Ross had written a short poem in memory of the inspiring young woman all of them had loved so much.

After the funeral they all headed back to River Bend for a sobering brunch and fellowship. Not many of them felt like eating though.

After Jake had tried-and failed- to eat, he walked outside of the ranch house. Walking down to the La Charla, he sat on the rock where they had shared their first kiss. He heard the pattern of hooves and pulled himself from his reverie and looked across the river. Across from him, the Phantom paced back and forth; nickering and whinnying. The mighty range stallion took a few splashing steps into the river before hesitating. The majestic white stallion threw his head up, releasing a longing neigh. He backed out of the babbling river before starting his galloping journey back to the _Playa._

**I'm working on the third chapter right now. R&R please!**


	3. Remorse, regrets, and a birthda

**Thanks again to my amazing Beta-er . . . person Winteraeon! Her suggestions and grammar/punctuation corrections have helped me so much! Enjoy guys; I tried to make this one not quite so bawl your eyes out. :P I don't quite know if it worked or not.**

Jake Ely walked into his dark cold lonely ranch house. He took off his dusty cowboy boots out of habit . . . because Sam had always made him take them off when he went into the house. Hanging up his hat, he felt tears come to his eyes. Right beside his hook was Sam's. Her old brown Stetson was still hanging there.

In spite of the emotions washing over him he held off the tears. He couldn't break down again. Jake feared if he started crying now, he might never stop.

Walking into the living room a flood of memories met him: the book she was still reading lay on the coffee table. Her favorite movies sat on the TV. The picture she painted of River Bend Ranch that Jake had insisted they hang up, a few wedding pictures . . . everything was a reminder of her. A reminder that she'd never be coming back. The book would remain unfinished, the movies unwatched . . .

He couldn't do it. He couldn't face this. He couldn't live with this. He ran up the stairs as quickly as he could, taking two stairs at a time. Rushing into the master bedroom, he began throwing clothes and necessities into a bag.

Running out of the house, he threw the bag into the back seat of his pick up: not even bothering to make sure the front door was locked. After hopping into the driver's seat, he opened his cell phone. The young man dialed his father in law's number.

"Wyatt, it's me. I need you to take care of Sam Louise for a bit." Jake didn't need to say why, Wyatt would understand.

"Alright. You sure about this?" Concern filled the aged cowboy's voice.

Jake closed his eyes.

"I'm sure." With that he shut the phone and started his truck. He knew Sam Louise would be in good hands until he came back. He rested his head on the top of the steering wheel and let a sing tear drop from his eye.

~&~

**Roughly 18 years later**

"Sam Louise Forster! Get your lazy bum out of that bed! The horses have been waiting for over an hour to get exercise!" The drowsy red-headed-cowgirl rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Who got up at 7:30 on a Saturday? Her Grandmother apparently.

Swiftly pulling on her boot socks, she rushed into the hall and stumbled down the stairs, past all the pictures of her on the wall, her with her grandparents, her with her Arabian mare, Fly, her with her old dog, Blaze. She was everywhere! She still didn't understand why her grandparents insisted on covering the walls with her tanned face.

Nearly tripping over her incredibly old cat Cougar, she stumbled into the kitchen.

"Morning Gramma." The girl mumbled through a piece of toast.

Brynna Forester smiled at the spunky 17 year old.

"Go take care of those horses, Hun. Fly has been whinnying like you wouldn't believe!" Just as she finished her sentence the screen door slammed and her husband walked into the kitchen.

"Its gonna be a hot one Brynna. Sam, I want you to keep a close eye on the water troughs, and after lunch we'll ride out to check on the cattle's water supply." Quite a long sentence for the aged buckaroo, but one that needed to be said.

Sam Louise nodded her head and rushed out the door. As the screen door slammed behind her with a loud bang, Wyatt shook his head. He took a few steps closer to her wife and gave her a quick peck on the check.

"That girl, always in a hurry to get nowhere."

~&~

Jacob Ely, now in his late thirties, sat on the hard bar stool like he owned it. Heck, he probably did considering how much he came in here. It was that month again. Getting closer to that day, that hour, that second, when everything had been ripped away from him.

"Hey Jay, you gonna drink that beer or do ya need some help finishing it?" The bartender caught Jake's attention easily enough. "Jay" guzzled the rest of the beer and ordered a shot.

"Jay, come on. A shot already? Why, it ain't even 3:00 yet!" Jacob sent the man behind the counter a death glare.

"OK, OK. One shot coming right up." With that he turned back to his work.

Jake needed to drown himself. He had to stop thinking about this. He refused to break down this year. The bartender set a shot of something strong and hard in front of him, but he didn't pick it up. He stared into the liquid. Almost franticly, like he was trying to find something in it. Something he had lost, and so desperately wanted back.

Finally Jake had had enough. He needed to get out of here. He could feel it, the pain bubbling up and he walked away.

~&~

**A few days later**

"Happy birthday!" A chorus of them rang out from the ranch's living room. Finally! Her 18th birthday had come! Sam Louise Forester felt like it would never arrive. Her friends from school were there, Uncle Cody, his wife and children, and her grandparents. She walked to her grandmother's side and hugged her, not without noticing the tears on her cheeks.

"What's wrong Gramma?" Concern laced the young girl's voice.

"Nothing dear. It's just hard to see you grow up." Sam turned to give her grandfather a hug, but he was nowhere to be seen.

After about an hour had passed, and her grandfather was still nowhere in sight, the red head snuck outside to look for him. She saw his form sitting on a rock by the river, but he wasn't sitting like he usually was. Wyatt Forster was the strongest man she new, and now she saw him sitting on a big rock, his head resting in his warn hands, shoulders shaking slightly.

Briskly walking to him, she sat down beside him, and rested her head on his shoulder.

"What's wrong Grandpa?" Wyatt had pulled out of his trance when she sat down, and now he looked at her. His voice was low and gruff as he spoke.

"I'm sorry to put a damper on your birthday, Honey. It's just hard to see you grow up is all."

~&~

**Not sure when I'll get around to thinking up the fourth chapter, probably next time I'm in a writing mood. R&R please! I re-wrote that, cause something is happening in the next chapter, well, maybe two things, haven't decided if I'm going to break them up or not. Anyway. I'll be writing chapter 4 soon!**


	4. Discovery

**Many many thanks to my beta Winteraeon! **

**A week later**

Fly galloped across the _playa_, the mare's white mane dancing in her self-made breeze. Sam Louise filled her lungs with the brisk Nevada air, feeling the wind rush past her now rosy cheeks. The sun rise peeked through the tips of the Calico Mountains, throwing a red tint over the Western sky.

Finally, Sam spotted what she had been looking for: a medium sized white farm house with shingles falling off the roof. The fence to the pasture appeared weak and shaky and tumble weeds blew through the long abandoned ranch yard.

The young woman trotted her Arabian towards the house. Over the ranch yard entrance, on a big, hand carved wooden sign, read the name of the ranch.

"_Whispering Winds . . . What a beautiful name."_

Stopping at the old hitching post, Sam hopped off her 17 hand high horse and looked around. The barn was run down, but still in good shape. The paint on both the barn and house was chipping and peeling. The ranch setup was much like back at Riverbend. The ten acre pasture was beside the barn, a chicken coop by the overgrown garden, the La Charla even ran past the house . . . When she thought about it, Sam Louise realized the house also looked quite a lot like the old farm house at Riverbend as well.

She had passed this house many times, and thought about it more. People said it was haunted by the late Phantom. In Sam's opinion, it was just an old legend with no real truth to it. People said the Phantom was still looking for his last mistress. He was said to have been born in captivity, owned and raised by a very young local girl. Then some kind of bad accident happened, and he was set free to run the range, the girl being sent away. The ghostly white stallion was never to be caught, and rarely seen, that is, until the young girl returned. After she died, it was said that the horse still haunted the lands around the Calico Mountains, forever looking for the young girl, sounding a threatening challenge to anyone that trespassed on his land.

It supposedly happened not twenty years ago too. Frankly, the story sent shivers up Sam's spine, but she never believed them. Whenever she asked people about it, they just clammed up and wouldn't talk about it. She asked her grandfather about them once, but he just told her it was nonsense and she shouldn't believe fairy tales like that.

Hastily tying Fly's rains to the hitching post, she walked to the porch. Stepping lightly, she made sure the steps wouldn't give out on her. Once satisfied they wouldn't, she slowly opened the screen door. The door creaked open, the rough sound it made giving her goose bumps.

Taking a deep breath, she grasped the door knob and turned it gently. The heavy wooden door swung open. Sam hesitantly took a step forward through the threshold. Her eyes darted everywhere. Directly to the right of the entrance was a cute medium sized kitchen, an  
old dishwasher, microwave, and stove that were covered in dust. A broken down  
fridge stood pathetically in a corner.

Deciding to skip the kitchen for now, she turned to her left. An airy living room met her view. There was a dark red couch, a big brown easy chair that looked well worn, there was even a book a book lying on the dusty coffee table.

The walls were painted crème, like most living rooms. A large window on one side of the room gave a beautiful view of the Calico Mountains and the _Playa. _

Pictures hung on the walls, covered with so much dust you couldn't see what was in the old frames. Walking on her tiptoes, trying to be as quite as she could be, she reached the wall where a large picture was hanging. She couldn't see much through the dust, but it looked like some kind of painting. Looking around the room, Sam tried to find something she could use to wipe away the layer of grim, but finally had to settle on using the sleeve of her hoodie.

Gently wiping the dirt away, the painting was revealed to her. Although there was nothing breathtaking about the quality of the painting, what had been painted, however, was. It was Riverbend ranch. The ranch where she grew up. The ranch she still lived at today. The barn was the same dirty brown color; the fence to the ten acre pasture still had that board with the weird knot in it, even her old dog Blaze was in the picture, lounging on the front porch.

This was just weird. She stepped back from the painting and moved on to the next picture. Using her hoodie's sleeve once more, she wiped the dust from the glass. Staring back at her was . . . Her.

The young girl in the picture could be her doppelganger. Auburn red hair, lithe form, freckles; the only difference was that the girl in the picture had brown eyes where Sam Louise's eyes where almost black. The picture was of a young woman sitting on a jet black horse, her smile wide as she looked down at the young man standing next to her. His arm was snuggly around her waist. He had shoulder length black hair, and almost black eyes. The young cowboy's black Stetson tilted up as he looked into the face of the young woman.

Sam chewed on her lower lip, this was just too weird. The person that used to live here looked just like her. She had to ask her Grandpa about this as soon as she got home, but before she left, she thought she might as well do a little more exploring.

The cowgirl walked back into the hallway and stopped, after glancing into the kitchen again, she decided to go deeper into the house. A few steps past a bathroom, was a closed door. Closed doors never stayed closed long if Sam had anything to say about it, so she covered her hand with her hoodie sleeve, and turned the knob. Inside was a small baby grand piano, even covered in year's worth of dust she could tell it was of good quality. On the far wall was a large window looking out to the Calico Mountains. The bright morning sunlight shot in through the glass. Below the window was a window seat, it looked perfect to curl up in with a soft cat and a good book.

Sam was started out of her observations when she heard a loud, challenging cry of a stallion. Even though she didn't believe the story about The Phantom, it still creeped her out a little. She left the piano room quickly, and briskly walked back into the living room. Grapping the picture of the young woman that looked just like her with the cowboy, she rushed out the door. Fly was still tied to the hitching post, her head up, nostrils flaring. The red head rushed to her side to put the picture in one of her saddle bags. She had a lot of questions to ask her Grandfather.

**~&~**

**R&R please! Blah. I don't really like this chapter very much. It was really hard for me to write for some reason. It took me forever too. I was working on it for like, two/three days. I split this chapter as two because together it was too long, but I don't have the other part written, but I know just want I want to do. 8D **


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